Nell smiled at her mother’s mistake, while Master Bob fairly screeched with laughter.
“Why, it wasn’t the Captain who did it,” he shouted out gleefully. “It was the cuttle-fish that squirted over us.”
Then, on the whole story being told her, Mrs Strong exonerated the Captain.
But not so Mrs Gilmour, when she learnt the history of the soles, which had been specially set aside for her and afterwards eaten.
“Oh, you cormorants!” she cried, pretending to be in a great rage. “Fancy eating my soles! Did you ever hear of such a thing? Captain Dresser, I’ll never forgive you!”
“Don’t be so hard-hearted,” said he imploringly. “If you only knew how hungry we were, I’m sure you would forgive us with your usual good-nature.”
“I’m not so certain of that,” replied she. “’Deed, and I won’t.”
“Besides, we enjoyed them so, do you know,” continued the old sailor, chuckling away at a fine rate. “Sure they were mighty fine, ma’am. The best soles I ivver ate, sure.”
“That makes the matter worse, you robber!” she retorted, smiling good-naturedly at his broad mimicry of her Irish pronunciation. “Why, ye’re adding insult now to injury, sure.”
“Never mind, Polly,” interposed her brother, acting as peacemaker between the two. “The Captain will show you how to cook soles properly the next time he catches any.”